


In Brightest Night

by DiamondCaviar



Series: Lantern Adventures in Vegas [1]
Category: DCU (Comics), Green Lantern - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - The Hangover Fusion, M/M, Tags will be updated accordingly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-08-12 17:24:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7942879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiamondCaviar/pseuds/DiamondCaviar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"All right, we all need to agree on something then. Rule number one: we don't say a word to either Barry or Carol," Kyle says, glancing at everyone in the group.</p><p>"Ain't that one a given? <i>Hey, sorry we're late, but we lost Hal somewhere in Las Vegas. Oopsies.</i> Yeah, no fuckin' way," Guy shakes his head. "Carol'd shove our rings so far up our asses that it'd take a whole lotta willpower to get them out, and Barry'd probably do something that'd make the time stream shit itself. We ain't telling them a goddamn thing."</p><p>In classic Hangover style, Earth's Green Lanterns lose their memories after a night in Las Vegas... and Hal. They've lost Hal, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: It's been a while since I've seen the Hangover movie, so this will likely be a combination of things I remember + personal Vegas shenanigans.
> 
> Now, let's go...!

“So... Oliver still pissed at you for ditchin' him for us?” Guy grins as he peeks over the seat in front of him.

“Nah, that was Barry. Just told him that we're gonna be taking off in a few minutes,” Hal says, powering down his phone and stowing it away in the seat's pocket. “But yeah, Ollie's still a little pissed at me.”

“Dunno what his problem is. It's just a night in Vegas, and it's not like we're gonna be missin' the bachelor party he's got planned for tomorrow night,” Guy shrugs, settling down into his seat. “He's still the best man, anyway. No need to get his arrows all up in a twist.”

“Coming from the person who almost got in a fist fight over the mere _suggestion_ that we save Vegas for another time,” John points out. Guy scowls at him.

"We're throwin' our own little party for Hal. Lanterns Only. Is that so wrong?” Guy clarifies. John scoffs at the _Lanterns Only_ part, earning another glare from Guy. “He may be Green, but he ain't a part of _our_ crew.”

“Oh, this is _just_ for Hal? So, a couple of weeks ago, that _wasn't_ you telling me that you were dying to visit Vegas again, huh?” Kyle says, having taken off his headphones to contribute to the conversation. “Must've been someone else. My bad.”

Guy gives him a look as well, which Kyle returns with a close-lipped smile. “Can't believe you've turned against me too.”

“Will someone shut Gardner up? I swear, I won't be able to survive this flight if he's talking the whole time,” Simon grumbles from his seat next to Hal. “Wish I had my ring so that I could get some decent earplugs up in here.”

“Wish we all could've brought our rings, but _Hal_ over here...” Guy kicks Hal's seat to punctuate his sentence. “...decided to bow to the will of Carol. Remind me who you're gettin' married to again?”

“I told you, Carol didn't want us getting smashed in Vegas and going wild with our rings. Do we need another Sector 169 incident? Besides, Barry also thought it was a good idea, so I went along with it too,” Hal shrugs, taking none of the blame, but enjoying every bit of Guy's annoyance. “Anyway, you agreed to it yourself, seeing as Vegas was your idea and you'd be _damned_ if we didn't go.”

“Jesus, both Barry and Carol have you whipped,” Guy rolls his eyes. “Might as well marry both of 'em while you're at it.”

“I don't think Jessica would like that,” Simon mumbles. “Now please, we've got three hours between us and Nevada, and I could really use the shut-eye.”

“Who invited this guy again?”

“The same person who's getting married and letting you come along, Guy.”

“Lettin'  _me_ come along? This was my idea!”

* * *

“Reminder that all of this was my idea,” Guy says as he pushes through the double doors of their suite.

And all of them stop in awe before they reach the middle of the foyer. Even Guy stops for long enough that his jaw goes slack at the sheer spaciousness of their suite. Beyond the large living space in front of them lies a terrace that boasts a beautiful view of the Strip, and there are at least four bedrooms that they can count out. There's a spiraling staircase to their left, and none of them can believe that there's an indoor pool just at the end of the hall. Intricate chandeliers hang from the tall ceiling, and art and statues add to the expensive décor of the area.

“Reminder that _I_ paid for this Skyline Suite,” John adds, and he pats Hal on the shoulder. “For Hal.”

“Thanks, John,” Hal smiles, bumping their fists together.

“Yeah, yeah. Hal's the star of this show, we get it,” Guy waves his hand airily as he approaches the personal bar area. He picks up an expensive-looking bottle and grins. “They have _everythin'_ here. Goddamn, this is how you fuckin' _do_ Vegas. And you all were fine with crashin' anywhere else.”

“I'll admit, I'm gonna have a hard time staying at Circus Circus now that I've been here,” Kyle says, and he's out on the terrace, taking in the sight. “Wow, this view.”

“Hell yeah, this view,” Hal echoes the sentiment. John, Simon, and Guy follow the two out, and for a while, the Lanterns just admire the bright lights of Las Vegas boulevard. Paris' Eiffel Tower glimmers on their right, and on their left, Luxor's Sky Beam pierces the night sky in a way very reminiscent to the way the Lantern's own light shoots through space.

“Damn, we're here because you're getting married, Hal,” Simon finally breaks the group's long silence as he leans against the railing of the terrace.

“Damn is right,” Hal laughs, and there's a shaky quality to it. None of them say anything about it—Guy doesn't throw his two cents in, only because he's back inside the suite—but they don't feel the need to tease him about it anyway.

He sounds nervous, but first and foremost, he sounds _happy_.

“All right, while we're all feelin' disgustingly sentimental out here...” Guy returns to the group, having left to retrieve a bottle and several shot glasses. “I think it's time to kick off our night with a toast to a certain pain in the ass.”

“We're raising a toast to you?” John takes the low-hanging fruit, and even Guy chuckles at that.

“This whole trip is a toast to _my_ great ideas, so we'll let Hal have this one,” Guy pours them all a shot, and he raises his own glass. “To Hal. And to Barry, actually, for bein' brave enough to take one for the team.”

“Very funny,” Hal rolls his eyes, but he raises his glass as well. They all down the shot simultaneously, all surprised by how easily it goes down. “...don't have anything stronger, Guy?”

“I could only bring a bit of the Bolovaxian whiskey that Kilowog gave me. Y'know, airline regulations and all that jazz,” Guy shrugs, raising the bottle. “I mixed it with stuff from the in-house bar, so if you think you're such a big boy, why don't you have some more?”

“Why don't we all have another one?” Hal says with a grin, tipping his glass towards Guy. “Hit me.”


	2. Chapter 2

When Kyle wakes up, he immediately wishes he hadn't. Light shines into the room, unhindered by the window shades, and it intensifies the ringing in his ears. He groans in discomfort, forcing his body to turn away form the light—

And he rolls right into the indoor pool.

Spluttering and reluctantly conscious, Kyle manages to dodge an untimely and embarrassingly pathetic death. He climbs out of the pool, dripping wet and with just as much of a headache as he had when he first fell in. But, at least he's awake. That's sort of something.

There's also the grand piano that Kyle swore he saw in the foyer the night before. Except now, it's at the bottom of the pool. That's also something.

He presses the heels of his palms into his eyes, as if physically trying to quash the awful headache that's currently assaulting his brain, and makes his way back to the main room of the suite. Mid-yawn, Kyle finally processes the last thing he'd just seen.

There was—there _is_ —a piano at the bottom of the indoor pool.

“Oh, shit,” Kyle peeks into the pool area, and lo and behold, the piano is still there. A few bubbles float up to the surface, and he backs out into the hall, only to nearly trip over one of the chandeliers.

A piano in the pool.

A chandelier on the ground.

And now he's noticing the fuzzy handcuff around his left wrist. The chain is broken, with the other half nowhere to be seen, but it's certainly tight enough around his wrist that he can't just pry it off.

“Oh, _shit_ ,” Kyle repeats, toeing around the broken fixture and rubbing his wrist. “Guy? Hal? John? Simon? Any of you guys awake yet?”

A groan comes from the wrap-around couch, and John's arm flops over the back of the couch in what Kyle assumes to be a wave. Or, an attempt at a wave. As he approaches John, Kyle notices that the living room looks absolutely _devastated_. Half of the couch's cushions are strewn all over the place, with one of them being impaled by a nearby statue; the aforementioned statue currently dons a feather boa and a permanent marker mustache; chandelier crystals are scattered all over the floor; and John—

“Whoa, John, buddy,” Kyle averts his eyes, shading them with a hand as he turns away. “No offense, but this is a little too intimate for me.”

“What?” John answers groggily, blinking several times before realizing that the only thing on his body is a shiny, gold pair of briefs. “Oh, Jesus, what the hell am I wearing?”

“I mean, gold suits you, but...” Kyle jokes as he tosses John a nearby pair of pants, trying to help preserve whatever shred of dignity that John has left.

“I'll stick with green, thanks,” John lets out a short chuckle, hungover enough that he probably couldn't care less about the gold briefs. He'll likely care later, but that's currently the least of their problems. “God, look at this place... It looks like a hurricane hit. And why are you soaked?”

“Fell into the pool,” Kyle says, and John seems to take it in stride. “Seen Hal, Guy, or Simon?”

“Well, it looks like someone's outside on the terrace,” John says, squinting at the bright morning sun. “And it looks like Simon. We need to find out what happened last night, because either way, we're gonna be in a whole lot of trouble.”

“Tell me about it,” Kyle groans, and the two approach Simon.

He's lying on the ground, his arms spread-eagle and his mouth open as he snores. At least, unlike John earlier, the only thing he's _not_ wearing is his shirt. There are numerous novelty necklaces around his neck, and there are dollar sign-shaped glasses on his face. He has permanent marker all over his bare chest, ranging from crudely-drawn dicks to the Green Lantern symbol to a cartoon drawing of Simon.

“...Well, that one's nice,” John says after a short silence, gesturing to the cartoon version of Simon that Kyle undoubtedly drew. The two of them take a knee next to Simon, and John rests a hand on his shoulder to gently shake him awake. “Hey, wake up.”

“Wake up, Simon. It's morning,” Kyle says, and he squints up at the sun. “Though it's probably more accurate to say that it's late morning.”

“Our return flight's at two, so we need to get everyone together and fix this mess,” John grimaces, and he shakes Simon a little more violently. “Wake up, Simon.”

Simon makes a noise of dismay and weakly flails his arms around to make them go away. “It can't be morning already.”

“Take your sunglasses off and you'll see that it's almost noon,” John suggests as Simon struggles to sit up.

“On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your pain?” Kyle asks with a grin, and Simon scoffs.

“A twelve, Baymax,” Simon says, taking off the novelty glasses to rub his eyes. “Fuck, this headache is the worst.”

Kyle and John open their mouths to agree, but they both are rendered speechless after seeing the marks that the glasses had left on Simon's face. It's not a serious sunburn, but the dollar signs around Simon's eyes are more than noticeable.

“Don't tell me someone drew a dick on my face,” Simon grumbles, examining the doodles on his chest.

“No, but you got a little tanner and the sunglasses...” Kyle trails off, gesturing to the area around his own eyes to illustrate the point. “At least it's money signs and not dicks, right?”

“Oh my god,” Simon gingerly touches the area around his eyes, as if trying to physically feel for the tan. “I look probably look really damn stupid.”

“You weren't the only one,” John says solemnly, but he shakes his head when Simon raises an eyebrow. “Never mind. Do you know where Hal and Guy are?”

“No, seeing as I literally just woke-”

The sound of something falling—and breaking—comes from the living room, and the three of them turn their attention to the arrival of Guy. Him and the bright pink bathrobe he's wearing are both soaked and dripping, and he trails water onto the terrace as he walks up to them.

“Good morning, ladies. I almost just fuckin' _drowned_ in one of the bathtubs,” Guy announces casually, but his expression shows how annoyed he really is. “Lemme tell ya, it's a real swell way to be woken up. Ain't nothin' like it. Anyway, does anyone know what the hell happened in there? Nice cock doodle collection, by the way.”

Instead of replying with words, Simon opts to just flip Guy off.

“Does that mean none of us remember what happened last night?” Kyle says, sighing deeply. “With the state that the room is in, we're so fucked. And by any chance, did you see Hal?”

“Nope,” Guy says, scooping bubbles from his hair and blowing them at Kyle. “And what's with that furry handcuff? Did ya get kinky with someone last night?”

Kyle turns red, flustered by Guy's suggestion and completely fails to find anything to say against that. John comes to his rescue by suggesting that they look for Hal.

It doesn't take them long to realize that Hal's not in the suite with them. They check each of the rooms twice, only to be reminded of the chaos in each area.

“Just call his cell,” Guy says, picking at his ear as he unties the bathrobe. “Christ, I'm still waterlogged. Toss me that shirt, John.”

Kyle's already dialing Hal's number, waiting for him to pick up when he nearly drops the phone. “Oh god, Guy.”

“What?” Guy cocks an eyebrow, and the other two are staring in a similarly horrified fashion. “Hello? Earth to anyone?”

“ _Hey, you've reached Hal's phone. I'm not here right now, so leave a message after...”_

“Your shoulder, man,” Simon finally says, and Guy glances down at his shoulder.

It's a surprise that he doesn't notice it in the first place—considering it's protected by clear cellophane and definitely hard to miss with the bathrobe no longer covering it—but when it finally dawns on him what exactly _it_ is, Guy's jaw drops.

“Holy fuck,” Guy says weakly. “This ain't a permanent marker doodle.”

“It's legit,” John says, sounding just as floored as Guy. “And I'm pretty sure we all only know one person named _Kyle Rayner_.”

“I mean...” Kyle begins to say, but he's at another loss for words. Both Kyle and Guy are suddenly awkward and tense, and Simon looks like he's trying to resist a huge grin. John's the only one able to bring the rest of them back to the situation at hand.

“As much as I want to address the enormous elephant in the room, we need to find Hal.”

“He's... um...” Guy scratches the back of his head sheepishly, but he brings his full attention back to the present time. “Y'know, Hal's a grown man. He could just be downstairs, getting breakfast or somethin'. I don't know.”

“Well, whatever he's doing, we all need to remember that he's getting married tomorrow,” John reminds all of them, and they all seem to sober up at that. “...so after seeing this enormous mess, it'd be nice to find him so that we can fix everything and haul our asses back to Central City.”

“You're right,” Guy concedes. “Let's get Hal and get the hell outta here.”

After the group changes into much more appropriate attire, Simon hangs back to talk to Kyle. “...if it makes you feel any better, the tattoo's only a _little_ ugly.”

“A _little_? The line work is atrocious, and the lettering isn't straight. The shading is also off, and the design is seriously tacky,” Kyle mutters, and to his credit, his face only gets a little red. “Heart and banner tattoo? Why do people still get those?”

“In Guy's defense—which I will almost never say—the design suits him. It's a very... Guy tattoo,” John says, and he's definitely grinning.

“Because it's obnoxious and tacky, just like him?” Kyle can't resist taking the shot, and the three of them watch as Guy practically punches the elevator buttons.

“Exactly,” John nods.

“What're you three standing there for? Get in here,” Guy barks at them, and they file into the elevator car.

“So where should we check first?” Simon asks as they begin their descent.

“No idea, but the restaurants are a good place to-” Kyle begins, but he is cut off by the ringing of John's cell. “Is it Hal?”

“Unfortunately, no,” John says, his face looking a little grim. “It's Carol.”


	3. Chapter 3

"Don't answer it!" Guy says immediately, shaking his head vehemently. "If Carol's callin', then someone's already gotta be in trouble with her. It's that weird _Women's Intuition_ shit—she already _knows_ we've fucked somethin' up. Just let the damn thing go to voicemail."

"Gonna have to agree with Guy on this one," Simon grimaces, crossing his arms across his chest.

"No, I think John should answer," Kyle says. "We don't even know what she's gonna ask, but if that's the case, then she's calling John because she trusts him the most to not lie to her. Just... God, I don't know. You decide, John."

John glances between the group, taking a deep breath and exhaling with an even longer sigh. "If this goes to shit, the rest of you are going down with me." 

He answers the call, setting it to speakerphone. "Hello?"

"John, thank God you answered," Carol says. "I've been trying to get a hold of Hal all morning, but he hasn't answered any of my calls. Where is he? Not passed out in a ditch somewhere, I hope."

"Oh, Jesus, he just might be," Guy breathes, scrubbing his face tiredly. John shoots him a glare, which Guy brushes off with a shrug that says _'well, he seriously **might** be.' _ The elevator comes to a stop a couple of floors down, and Guy immediately jabs the "Close Elevator" button repeatedly. "Catch the next one, old-timers."

The elderly group looks scandalized by Guy's brashness, but one of the old men raises a withering hand to flip him off.

"Oh yeah? Up yours, geezer!" Guy yells as the elevator doors slide shut. Kyle stares at him incredulously, and Guy just rolls his eyes.

"...was that Guy?" Carol asks.

"Yeah, he's a little cranky and won't _shut up_ ," John fixes another pointed look at Guy, but he's too busy scratching at the edges of his new tattoo to notice. At least Kyle slaps his hand away, which leaves Guy scowling. "Anyway, I'll apologize on Hal's behalf then. He couldn't answer his phone because... it died last night, and I guess he forgot to charge it this morning."

"My God, charging his ring is second nature, but he's still awful when it comes to keeping his phone charged," Carol sighs, and John feels himself relaxing at the fact that she bought the lie. "Is he there with you, by the way?"

"Well, Hal's..." John trails off, looking at the other three for help. They all look just as bewildered as he feels, but the last thing he expects them all to do is simultaneously blurt out an answer that's completely _different_ from each other's.

"...at the pool!" Guy blurts out, his arms flailing around wildly to make it look like he's swimming.

"...getting a massage at the spa," Simon inputs quickly.

"...at lunch," Kyle exclaims, and everyone's eyes go wide. The other three stare at the phone in horror, and John pinches the bridge of his nose. 

"Good going, guys."

"Well it didn't look like any of you were gonna be sayin' anything-" Guy hisses defensively, but John shushes him with a wave of his hand.

"You don't get to talk anymore," John moves to the other end of the elevator, taking Carol off of speakerphone and getting as far away as he can possibly be from Guy.

"Was that seriously supposed to be swimming, though?" Simon whispers, and Guy gives him a small shove.

"...John? Hello?" Carol says after a brief silence, and the tone of her voice is the beginnings of a warning.

"Hal... woke up earlier than all of us, but he told us last night that he wanted to take a morning swim at the pool," John begins, trying to seamlessly tie all of their answers together. The elevator slows to another stop, but at least Guy's silent intimidation is enough to stop anyone from entering. "We're heading down to meet him for lunch, and..."

"We're all going to the spa after!!" Guy chimes in once again, breaking the golden silence that John had just begun to appreciate. He pointedly ignores the looks that the other three are giving him as he crowds into John's space.

"Hey, what the hell do you think you're doing?" At this point, John is dangerously close to just knocking Guy out cold. Guy just makes a vague waving gesture with his hands that's supposed to convince the others that he has the situation under control.

"What is Guy talking about? Do you guys even have time for that?" Carol says, still wary. "Isn't your flight in a few hours?"

"Yeah, 'bout that..." Guy finally snatches the phone away from John, keeping the group at bay when they try to take back from him. "Why the hell should we stay for _just_ one night, right? Might as well stay for the rest of the weekend!!"

"Guy!" Kyle whispers urgently, but Guy shakes his head.

"What? The bachelor's party is _tonight_ , and the wedding is _tomorrow_ ," Carol's voice sharpens, but Guy is undeterred. "I'm not sure that's the smartest plan."

"We all know the wedding is tomorrow!!" Guy half-yells, sounding slightly panicked over the fact that Hal is soon to be wed, but nowhere to be seen. "We know!! I just figure'd it'd be shitty for him to fly back today and be all jet-lagged tonight."

"God," John mutters, having backed into a corner to nurse his headache. Kyle and Simon motion at him to take the phone back from Guy, or to speak up at the very least, but John just raises a hand and shakes his head slowly.

"...so your argument has you guys flying back tomorrow _instead_ , where you all will be jet-lagged the day _of_ the wedding? Guy, that makes absolutely no sense," Carol says. "Not to mention how pissed you're gonna be making Oliver if you're seriously planning to skip out on him. What does Hal think about all of this?"

"It's a surprise. My idea," Guy says smugly. "Anyway, we've got stuff to do. You know, _Vegas_."

"Wait, give the phone back to-"

"Bye, doll," Guy hangs up without another word and hands the phone back to John. "Why're you all looking at me like that? No _'thank you'_ for the way I just fell onto the sword for the group?"

"Yeah, you fell on the sword all right," John says, still rubbing his temples. " _And_ you brought the rest of us down on it as well."

"Look, this means that we now have a whole 'nother day to look for Hal!" Guy barks back, defensive. "You'll be thanking me when it's midnight tonight and we're still looking for Hal."

"We're overreacting," Simon says, his arms still folded across his chest. "We don't even know Hal is actually missing. We just keep assuming that because we can't find him."

"With the room being a mess and us not remembering a damn thing about last night, it's hard to assume that he's not missing," Kyle murmurs, pulling his sleeve down to hide the furry handcuff. "I hope he's around."

"We're in Vegas," Guy says by way of explanation. "It ain't gonna be that simple."

"All right, we all need to agree on something then. Rule number one: we don't say a word to either Barry or Carol," Kyle says, glancing at everyone in the group.

"Ain't that one a given? _Hey, sorry we're late, but we lost Hal somewhere in Las Vegas. Oopsies._ Yeah, no fuckin' way," Guy shakes his head. "Carol'd shove our rings so far up our asses that it'd take a whole lotta willpower to get them out, and Barry'd probably do something that'd make the time stream shit itself. We ain't telling them a goddamn thing."

"What do we do if she calls again then?" Simon asks, and the elevator finally reaches the bottom floor.

"Well, we try not to shit ourselves the way we did just now," John replies, tiredly leading them out into the casino area. Their day has barely begun and they're already worn out. "And we pray that we find Hal."


	4. Chapter 4

“Lemme guess,” John says, judging by the frustrated expression on Guy's face. “You didn't find much either?”

“Nope,” Guy yanks the chair out and sits, but he's appreciative of the coffee that John pushes towards him. “Went all the way across the street to New York New York. No one there remembers seeing him, with or without us, so it was complete bust. Guess none of that matters since I _still_ don't remember a damn thing anyway.”

“That makes two of us,” John says around the edge of his own coffee mug. “No one's called yet either. I've been waiting for Carol to call again, but it looks like her job as the Allen-Jordan wedding planner keeps her hands full enough as it is.”

“Thank the blue-balled Guardians for small mercies,” Guy says without a hint of irony, and John chuckles at that. “And here comes Kyle. Any luck at Hooters?”

Guy is grinning when Kyle comes to join them at the table, but the expression on Kyle's face tells them more than they need to know. “Not really. I asked around and some of the dealers might've remembered seeing us there, but they don't really know what we might've been up to. We could've just been passing through, so who knows.”

“Ain't that the million dollar question,” Guy grumbles, but when Kyle drinks from the coffee mug that he'd just drank from, he makes a small noise at the back of his throat and scratches the back of his head in what John safely guesses is embarrassment. “Err, anyway.”

“Anyway,” John echoes, deciding not to press it. “When I checked Excalibur, the people at the Fun Dungeon-”

“ _Fun Dungeon_?!” Guy repeats, his face suddenly lighting up with glee as he doubles over in laughter. Kyle pointedly scoots away and John moves the coffee mugs far out of his flailing reach. “Haha, the fuck is that?! And why was that the first place you visited?!”

Guy slaps the table with his hand as his raucous laughter attracts the attention of several patrons, and John rolls his eyes. “Will you get a grip? It's the name of the kids carnival area at the hotel. As I was saying, some of the workers at the Fun Dungeon—Guy, _quiet down_ , damnit—said that they'd definitely seen us, and we'd apparently cleaned house at some of the games last night.”

“Not really a strong lead, but I guess it's something,” Kyle grimaces, and the two watch as Guy takes his mug back from Kyle and keeps _giggling_.

“Fun Dungeon. All right, I'll buy it,” Guy grins. He looks at Kyle, a little more sober and mildly scandalized by Kyle's lack of reaction. “You don't remember? Sector 1472 had a Fun Dungeon too. Ah, well, I guess that's a story for another day.”

Kyle looks confused, but then it's clear from the way his ears go red that the memory returns to him.

“...okay then,” John has to keep himself from asking, even if the curiosity eats at him. With the way Guy keeps snickering, he figures that he probably doesn't want to know anyway. “Look, Simon's back too.”

“Not much here at MGM,” Simon says, dropping down into a seat. “A couple dealers said that they saw us leave a couple of times, but when we came back, we were always with Hal.”

“So pretty much the same thing we've been hearing too,” John says, scrubbing his face with a hand. “If Hal was really with us by the end of the night, then where the hell did he end up?”

“I dunno, but...” Simon fishes a wallet out of his pocket, tossing to the center of the table. “I got this from the Lost and Found. Hal's wallet. Apparently one of the valets found it really early this morning after it fell from the sky, around three or something? There are, uh, a few interesting receipts in there...”

“Wait, it fell from the sky?” Kyle frowns, and Simon shrugs. “Did Hal, like, chuck his wallet off the terrace or something?”

“Jeez, he has a shitton of pictures of Barry in there,” Guy says as John lays out the contents of the wallet, but there's no heat behind his words. “There are more pictures than actual money. Christ, what a damn sap.”

“Even more of a reason to find him as soon as possible,” John says, checking the receipts. A large bulk of them are from various convenience stores, going from Excalibur to as far as Planet Hollywood. They're not as telling as John hopes, but the other receipts are much more interesting. “This one...”

“...is from an adult novelty store, yeah. I found that one in my pocket, actually,” Simon says, and he's consciously trying to not look embarrassed by that admission. “Furry handcuffs, a gold speedo, and those shitty necklaces I was wearing earlier. I woke up with only the last thing, so...”

Kyle raises his left wrist, showing the handcuff. “I've got half of those cuffs. No idea where the other half went and why it's missing in the first place. As for the gold speedo, I think I saw that near the terrace.”

John quietly thanks Kyle for not telling the rest of the group about the fact that _he_ had been the one wearing the golden pair.

“Well, ain't that dandy?” Guy scratches the area around his tattoo again, ignoring Kyle's attempts to advise him otherwise. “It's so damn itchy, Kyle. Lemme live for a second. What else is in there, John?”

“Oh boy. Looks like we-” John begins, but Simon interrupts him.

“Hold on a sec. Check out the TV,” Simon points to the television screens, and they all turn to watch the news segment.

“ _...local police are continuing to investigate the green streak of light that was seen on the Strip last night. Witnesses say that they saw the green light near the Cosmopolitan, while others reported that they had also seen it near Paris and Bally's.”_

“Uh oh,” Kyle says. They all look at each other, wide-eyed and at a loss for words. “We... that couldn't have been us, right?”

“ _Police suspect the unauthorized use of private drones, and there are currently no suspects. Live on Las Vegas Boulevard, this is...”_

“As far as I can tell, none of us have our rings,” John says in a low voice, but he sounds doubtful. None of them have their rings, but they can't speak for Hal. “I hate to say this, but I think we need to call and make sure that all of them are there.”

“Call Carol?” Guy says with a frown. “Didn't we already experience that trainwreck earlier? Or did you mean Barry? Because that's a trainwreck that I definitely don't wanna be a part of, thanks.”

“No, I think we should be calling Jessica,” John says, and they all look at Simon.

“Me? Tsk, why me?” Simon crosses his arms, indignant.

“You're the one who trained her, so you know her better than all of us,” Kyle says. “You'll know how to ask without making her suspicious.”  
  
“She might tell Carol,” Simon counters, even though he knows how important it is to know the whereabouts of their rings. “Hell, she's probably with Carol right now.”

“Carol's busy with making sure things are all in order for tomorrow, so I'm sure Jessica will be somewhere else,” John pushes his phone towards Simon, and Simon scowls at the device. “Come on, man.”

Simon's arms seem to cross even tighter, but he unwinds and swipes the phone from the table. “Hate you guys. If this goes wrong, it's on you three.”

“Godspeed,” Guy raises his mug mockingly.

Jessica answers after only a couple of rings. “Hello?”

“Jessica? It's Simon. We were just, uh, wondering... is Carol there with you right now?”

“No, not right now,” she says. “She's out, checking on the wedding cake. What's going on? Do you need to talk to her?”

“No, no, no,” Simon says quickly. “We were just wondering if you could check on our rings? We, uh...”

Simon looks to the group for help, and they all shrug helplessly. He's not sure if he prefers this over the fiasco in the elevator, but at least no one is shouting out random answers. Then, Guy raises a finger on either side of his head, mimicking bat ears.

 _Bat kids stealing_ , he mouths.

“Good one,” John nods.

“We—Hal, actually—heard that one of Batman's kids might try to steal one and mess around with it. So, we just wanted to check in on them,” Simon explains, sounding unsure of the lie himself, but he relaxes when Jessica doesn't question him.

“Really? Dick and the youngest one were actually here this morning, but they were only here for a minute,” Jessica says, and Simon lets out a quiet sigh of relief. What luck. “Well, it looks like all of the rings are here.”

“They're all there,” Simon repeats, and the others are visibly relieved as well. “All right, that's all then. Thanks. Bye.”

Simon hangs up before Jessica has the chance to ask any more questions, and he slides the phone back to John. Guy puffs out his cheeks and exhales loudly before readdressing the local news. “At least we know that light thing wasn't us.”

“But I have a feeling that it's gonna be our problem one way or another,” John takes another drink of the coffee, but it doesn't taste as good cold. “Anyway, we'll climb that mountain when we get there. We still need to look at these receipts, guys.”

“Right. You were gonna show us something else, before the news bulletin,” Kyle says, and John nods.

“Yeah... it's this one,” John says, unfolding the receipt for everyone to see. They all crowd around the piece of paper, their eyes drawn to the curly logo at the top.

“Oh, _Christ_ ,” Guy swears. “A receipt from a chapel.”

“Holy shit,” Kyle breathes, and he asks aloud what the whole group is wondering silently to themselves. “Did... Oh, _God._ Hal didn't get himself married to someone else, did he?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IIRC, someone got married in the first Hangover movie, so this is a mix of that and something that happened in real life.
> 
> Needless to say, this chapter was my absolute favorite to write.

“What the _fuck_ are we gonna do when we find out that Hal's been married to some hooker?” Guy bemoans, pushing his sunglasses further up his nose and scowling. Kyle chides him with an elbow to the ribs, but Guy continues regardless. “No, really—what the hell do we do next?!”

“ _If_ he's been married,” John corrects him as he flags down a taxi. His headache hasn't really subsided, and Guy's voice has done nothing to help it. “Let's not jump to any conclusions. Seriously. It's already bad enough that he's lost. We really don't need to add any more worst-case-scenarios to today. Let's just get to the chapel and get things sorted out from there.”

“Y'know, we'd be back in Central City by now,” Guy checks his watch, and judging by the orange sun in the sky, he's right. He steps down onto the street and vigorously waves down a taxi. “Had we made our flight 'n' all.”

“I _know_ ,” John sighs.

A cab slows to a stop, and the four begin to file in. John sits in the front, next to the driver, while Guy and Kyle slide into the back seat. Simon hesitates for a moment, the dollar-sign tan on his face hidden by normal sunglasses, and he frowns before getting in.

“...what would we tell Barry?” Simon asks solemnly, and the group suddenly feels a disproportionate amount of guilt at the idea of such a terrible situation. “If that was the case, I mean.”

What exactly would they tell Barry? It's amusing in theory— _Hey, Barry, funny story! Your fiancé got married to some two-bit prostitute while we were in Vegas. Hilarious, right?_ —but it's a lot less funny when they imagine the look of shock and devastation on the speedster's face.

Not to mention Carol. Carol would likely hunt them to the edges of the universe and back.

So would Wally. And Iris. And the rest of the League.

“We...” John begins, but his shoulders fall as thinks of nothing to say. They all look at each other, and their grim expressions are nearly identical. Nothing would really remedy that situation; no amount of apologies or regret would repair the trust that the League and Barry had put into them.

“We're not gonna tell him anything, guys,” Kyle finally says. “Hal isn't going to get married until tomorrow, and we're only going to the chapel because we were apparently there last night. We won't _need_ to tell him anything. All... All will be well.”

Kyle's assuredness falters towards the end, but he looks significantly more confident than the other three do. Although they still look a little uneasy, Guy and Simon still manage to relax a little bit. John inhales a deep breath and sighs, settling back in his seat.

“So... where to, friends?” Their cheerful taxi driver beams a wide smile at them, and John returns it weakly.

“The Hall of Justice Chapel, please.”

* * *

 The chapel is much, much smaller than they had imagined it to be. Before they arrived, they weren't really sure what else to expect. The front of the chapel is designed to look like a much smaller version of the real Hall of Justice, and although it looks very well done, the rest of the building is rather lackluster. The paint—previously white—is now a dirtier variant of its original color, and the back of the building looks like it had been taken from a completely different building.

“You think Bats knows 'bout this?” Guy asks, and he's finally relaxed enough to crack a smile at the Batman parody on the sign.

“Do you think this place would exist if he knew?” John answers the question with a question of his own, and he's smiling as well. “Jeez, this is _awful_.”

“Well, at least the lawn is nice,” Kyle says, like he's trying to find something that he genuinely finds pleasant or attractive about the area.

“Yeah, honestly, the chapel itself isn't that bad,” Simon shrugs, eyeing down the rest of the street. “...if you ignore the run-down pawn shop on the left and the abandoned motel behind it.”

“...d'ya think they really have their own Justice League?” Guy ventures to ask, because the Batman on the sign is surrounded by several imitations of the League. One of them is clearly meant to be Green Lantern, but the suit is blue instead of green.

“I guess we're gonna find out,” John chuckles hollowly, unsure if he's amused or mortified. They enter the chapel, and they're immediately frozen in place when the Wonder Woman pastiche notices them and approaches them with a wide smile.

“Hi, you guys! Welcome back!!” She hugs them all one by one, lingering a little longer on Kyle and Guy. Guy visibly wrinkles his nose at the smell of cigarette smoke on her costume, but she's too busy calling over the other employee to notice. “Billy!! Billy, get over here and say hi!!”

“Boys!” The man in the Batman costume—cowl off, full pompadour on—climbs down the ladder he's on and greets them all with a hug as well. “Sorry, we're a mess; just decorating for another ceremony later this afternoon! You're here for the DVD and photo album, right?”

“DVD and...” John begins, confused, and he shakes his head. “Sorry, but to be frank with you two, we don't remember what happened here last night.”

Wonder Woman continues to smile widely at them, completely oblivious to their situation. “What do you mean you don't remember! You were all excited for the wedding, although I could've sworn there were five of you last night... Billy, wasn't there five of them last night?”

Billy nods, his cheap costume creaking with each movement. “Yup, there was another one, Wilma. I'd remember. I'm Batman, after all.”

“Wait, so Hal was with us last night?” Kyle asks, and they all feel just as hopeful as he sounds.

“Hal! Yes, that's the lucky fella!” Wilma claps her hands together, and the hope they'd felt only a moment ago evaporates almost instantly.

“You mean... he got married here last night?” Kyle feels his heart sinking straight into the ground.

In his head, John is already thinking of ways to apologize to Barry. Guy is wondering how fast he'll have to fly to keep out of Carol's reach, and Simon is wondering if he'll be able to take on the League if he has to. They all come up with answers that they really don't favor.

“No, silly! He was your best man!!” Wilma playfully slaps Kyle on the shoulder, and all eyes are now on Kyle.

“Kyle... _you_ got married,” John elucidates slowly. He's not sure if things are clearing up, or if they're getting more and more hazy. If he wasn't so confused right now, he'd be enjoying the expression on Guy's face.

“Gee, look at you guys' face! You all really can't remember a thing!” Billy laughs, his stomach close to bursting out of the tight Batman costume. “Come on over here, we've got all stuff to help jog your memory.”

“Who the hell'd he get married to?" Guy asks no one in particular, but the sense of urgency in his voice is almost entertaining.

“Guy, are you really asking that question right now?” John asks, and they follow Billy the Batman to the storage area. Billy pulls out a photo album that has Superman's shield on the front and hands it to them.

“Oh, _Jesus_ ,” Guy takes the album, and the very first picture is of him and Kyle.

Kyle is grinning at the camera, caught in mid-laugh as Guy just looks at him with inordinate amount of fondness. John glances at the Kyle right next to him, and he can almost feel the burning blush on his face. Despite how embarrassed he might feel, Kyle looks like he's trying—and failing—to fight down a smile. Guy looks just as torn between mortified and proud, his ears redder than Simon's ever seen them.

The two are flustered beyond belief, but they look _happy_.

Guy snorts when they turn to a picture of him with his arm around Batman Billy, and the two are flipping off the camera.

“I can practically hear you saying: _'Up yours, Bats!'_ ” John says to diffuse the tension, and it works. Guy lets out a shaky chuckle, but he clears his throat to draw attention away from it.

“Looks like you were Guy's best man, John,” Kyle finally speaks up after his long silence, and his voice distinctly catches in the middle. None of them point it out.

“Look, there's Hal!” Simon says, and Hal's got his arm around Kyle's shoulder, tugging him down as he ruffles his hair. The next photo is of John and Hal, and they're both frozen in a well-timed jump shot. Simon, Guy, and Kyle are grinning in the next picture, and Simon is holding up a broken pair of familiar handcuffs.

“So you were the ring-bearer,” John says, and no one is quite sure what to make out of the fact that Guy and Kyle had decided to use handcuffs instead of the standard wedding bands. “That doesn't explain where the other one went, but I guess we now know their purpose.”

“I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that it was Guy's idea, not mine,” Simon casually tosses him under the bus, and Guy rolls his eyes.

The final photo is of their entire party—including fake Batman and Wonder Woman—caught in a candid shot, where everyone is laughing at some joke that they can't remember.

“...wasn't that beautiful?” Billy says, having returned with a box. “One of my favorite ceremonies yet.”

“It was fantastic,” Wilma agrees. “Anyway, here's the rest of the items that came with your package! The DVD of the whole ceremony, commemorative shot glasses, matching T-shirts for the married couple, and baseball caps for the whole group!”

Guy takes the box unwillingly, and Simon takes out one of the caps. “ _Team Guy & Kyle_. That's nice. I think I'll wear it.”

“Ha. Ha,” Guy grumbles, but when Kyle puts one of the hats on him, he lightens up.

“So, you guys wouldn't happen to know where we went after, would you?” John says, taking one of the hats and wearing it to further tease Guy. Guy _hmphs_ in response, but he's grinning as well. “We're kind of missing Hal, and we've got no clue where to go next.”

“Hmm, let's see now...” Wilma taps her chin thoughtfully. “I think y'all decided to... what was it now? Oh, that's right! Y'all were gonna go out and get some fresh ink!!”

“Yep, just down the street. Boulevard Tattoos. Can't miss it,” Billy says, having gone back to decorating.

“Thank you so much,” John says, and he leads them out to the entrance. As charming as the chapel is, he really wants to leave.

“Not a problem! Congrats again to you two!!” Wilma says, giving Kyle and Guy one last hug before letting them go.

Outside, Simon stops them. “All right, I get that I'm a little newer around here, but can someone explain to me how Guy is capable of loving someone aside from himself?”

“I'm _full_ of love,” Guy wrinkles his nose at Simon, sneering at him. He adjusts the box in his arms as they start their walk towards the tattoo parlor. “Just 'cause you haven't gotten any from _me_ doesn't mean I'm incapable of love.”

“Didn't say I wanted any,” Simon raises his hands in mock surrender, and Guy tries to trip him.

“To your credit, Simon, they were pretty good at keeping it on the down-low,” John says. “And I've been trying not to ask all morning, but after all of that stuff at the chapel, I have to now. Just out of curiosity, how long has this been going on?”

“Uh, well...” Kyle says, scratching the back of his neck. “I wanna get something straight first—we weren't _trying_ to hide it, we just-”

“Nah, Kyle's just being nice. We just didn't wanna tell any of you,” Guy continues for him, earning a look from Kyle. “Hey, I was just messin' with 'em. Truth is we just never got around to tellin' you guys. Timing was never right. Plain and simple. Now, for about _how long_ this has been goin' on...”

“Yes?” John says, urging him to continue.

“Remember when our pal Sinestro decided to have a tantrum party with _his_ pals Anti-Monitor and l'il Prime?” Guy asks.

“ _That_ long ago?” John asks, incredulous. Simon's heard of what happened during the war with the Sinestro Corps, but that's still a time before him.

“Just a little before that, actually,” Kyle adds, and John raises his eyebrows. They all pause for a moment, stopped in front of a convenience store.

“...all right then,” John finally nods in acknowledgement, and they continue their walk down the street.

“Was it really that important to know when they, er, got together?” Simon falls in step with John, and they watch Kyle and Guy examine the rest of the items in the box.

“Not really,” John shakes his head. “I suspected as much. It's just nice to know that when we find Hal, he'll be owing me a hundred bucks.”


	6. Chapter 6

“...I'm not accusing you of any wrongdoing, _but_ I'm just saying that Tora's going to be pretty disappointed that you didn't invite her to your wedding,” John shrugs as he thumbs through one of the magazines. He keeps his tone casual to annoy Guy, and his smile widens when Guy crosses his arms and frowns at him.

“Sorry for not printin' out any formal _Save The Date_ cards,” Guy glowers, leaning against the window of the tattoo parlor. “Didn't know I'd be gettin' hitched in Vegas. And when is our tattoo artist comin' out? We've been waiting for an hour and a half now!”

Their afternoon has eclipsed into early evening, and they're not much closer to finding Hal. They're not as fatigued as they thought they'd be, but that's likely due to the fact that Hal's wedding day is going to arrive, with or without them. Tired or not, they need to keep searching.

“Would've been nice to have her there, though. She's the one who practically held your hand when it came to asking me out,” Kyle adds as he flips through one of the artist's portfolios. Artist to artist, the samples are fine, but there's definitely _some_ room for improvement. He glances at Guy's fresh tattoo and revises his earlier opinion—there's definitely _a lot_ of room for improvement. “Milagro'll also give you a hard time, I'm sure.”

Guy turns to Kyle and scowls at him, but the light shoulder bump Guy gives him is affectionate. Simon, who is in the corner and flipping through some worn-out comic book, glances at them and makes a gagging noise that he doesn't even try to hide.

“Didn't hear anyone askin' you for your opinion!” Guy barks at him, but Simon's already claimed his victory. Getting a reaction out of Guy doesn't take much effort, but that doesn't make it any less satisfying.

“We could lend her the DVD of the ceremony,” Kyle suggests, and John nods sagely in agreement.

“Christ, _enough_ outta you two,” Guy grumbles, and they have a laugh at his expense.

“...you know, I don't think I ever formally congratulated you two,” John says after a moment of silence, and Guy groans loudly in annoyance.

“See, _this_ is why we didn't want any of you guys knowin' 'bout us! You're all bein' so damn annoyin' about it!”

“You'll have to forgive him,” Kyle says placidly, but his mouth curls when he comes across a particularly hideous design. Art is subjective, he reminds himself. Art is subjective, but _that_ is _bad_. “He's just embarrassed.”

“Guy Gardner, legendary member of the Green Lantern Honor Guard and now, a married man,” John notes in mocking awe, like he wants to keep testing Guy, but there's still a hint of honesty and deference to it. “Embarrassed, but for the only thing in his life that he _shouldn't_ be embarrassed about. Congratulations on being the luckiest man in the world, so own up to it.”

“...was that supposed to be your best man's speech? It's a bit late for that.” Guy finally smirks, and he's clearly owning up to it now. “You're right 'bout that last part, but don't think for a second that I _didn't_ already know that myself.”

At this, Kyle visibly blushes, but he occupies himself with the other portfolios on the table. Simon makes another gagging sound, and Guy swats the comic out of his hands.

“This whole 'embarrassed' excuse is already getting old,” Simon picks up the comic and tosses it back onto the table.

Finally, one of the artists comes down the hall and waves them in. “Hey, thanks for waiting, you guys! Follow me to my office and we'll talk there.”

They pass by the client and their newly tattooed upper arm, and Kyle catches himself staring when he sees that the person in the tattoo has two left hands. He tells himself that it's intentional, even if it certainly does not look like it.

“Welcome back, you crazy bastards,” The artist grins at them, and he pulls on a fresh pair of gloves. “Y'know, I've met a bunch of weirdos during my apprenticeship, but you guys have to be the craziest sons of bitches of I know! What brings you back? Do you wanna get more tattoos or something?”

“Slow your roll, kid,” Guy raises his hands to quiet him. “We ain't here for more ink. We're here to figure out what the hell happened to us last night so that we can find our buddy.”

“Ooh, sounds like you guys got hit with the ol' Vegas switcheroo...” The artist nods solemnly. Guy stares at the young man like he's an absolute idiot, but John speaks up before he can.

“Do you remember if we were here with him last night? Hal Jordan? Tall, brown-haired guy,” John says, and their artist is still nodding, but it's a little more thoughtful this time.

“Yeah, of course I remember him! You guys had just come from a wedding or something. Whatever it was, it sounded crazy!! Haha, anyway, I gave him a tattoo as well-”

“Oh _no_ ,” Kyle mutters louder than he means to, but the artist doesn't seem to have heard him.

“-and he'd gone on and on about how his fiancé would love it,” he laughs, even though the others don't find anything remotely funny about that. “Lemme tell you, it rarely works out that way. Haha, but power to him if he thinks so!”

“...right,” John replies dryly. “Before we had left, did we say we were going anywhere else?”

“Hmm...” The artist scratches at his chin as he changes out the needles in the tattoo machine. He's quiet for long enough that they wonder if he's forgotten the question, but then he answers. “Nope, I don't think so. Oh, and you guys left these things here? I'm, uh, not gonna ask what they were for. Haha.”

“Well, that's great. Dead end,” Simon sighs, but Kyle doesn't quite agree as he is looking very relieved to be getting the ridiculous handcuff off. He takes the proffered key and unlocks the cuff around his wrist, and he reluctantly accepts the other half that the artist is insisting he takes as well.

Okay, _now_ they're at a dead end.

“Oh, I meant that I don't think you guys went anywhere. If I'm remembering correctly, I think you guys just went back to wherever you were staying.”

“That ain't possible,” Guy shakes his head. “That'd mean that we really are at a dead end.”

“I'm, like, ninety-nine percent sure that you guys said you'd be going back to your hotel. It was almost two in the morning when you guys left, so it'd make sense.” Their artist prepares their sketch—Kyle just doesn't look at this point—and shrugs. “And before you guys ask: yes, you were still a group of five when you left.”

“Well, that's fuckin' great,” Guy scrubs his face with a hand. John sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, and Kyle and Simon are sighing in impatience.

“Sorry I couldn't have been more help, guys. Anyway, I've got an appointment in fifteen, so...”

They're already on their way out, even before he can finish his sentence.

“Total bust,” Simon mutters once they've exited the parlor, and the sky is considerably darker now.

“This is bad,” John says, still trying to ease the headache that's threatening to come back.

“ _Bad_? This was _already_ bad, even before we all woke up! We're now at fuckin' FUBAR, with Hal still nowhere to be found and his wedding less than twenty four hours away!!” Guy huffs angrily, kicking at a can. “He hasn't even tried to contact any of us, so it's gettin' real hard to assume that he-”

“Hal is _fine_ ,” John grits out. “He _has_ to be fine.”

“Oh, sure, _hoping_ he's all right is nice'n all, but that's worth shit-”

“Jeez, Guy, will you shut up for five damn seconds?” Simon says irritably. “You're pissing everyone off.”

“ _I'm_ pissing everyone off? That's rich, considering how much you always complain-”

“ _Guy_ ,” Kyle says warningly, and Guy backs down. Although they're both still annoyed by Guy's constant show of cynicism, John and Simon dial it down as well. “Listen, we're all just tired and frustrated that we haven't found Hal yet. I want to keep looking, but I think we need to head back to the hotel for now and regroup.”

“Good idea,” John crosses his arms, and Simon's already hailing a taxi.

* * *

By the time their cab makes it through the Las Vegas traffic, it's even later in the evening, but they've all cooled off. There's a time to be angry, and it isn't now.

“All right, let's try and map this thing,” Kyle says, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Guy dumps the box of wedding memorabilia on the couch and deposits himself right next to it. Simon opts to sit on the floor, while John stands near the stairs. “Okay, we're here in the hotel, having those shots on the terrace.”

“Then we went downstairs to have dinner at Hakkasan or something,” Simon supplies, yawning.

“After that, we... We...” Kyle taps his forehead forcefully, trying to keep himself awake. “God, what did we do again?”

“I think we might've went to Excalibur's Fun Dungeon,” John says, taking a seat on the staircase. “Played games.”

“Right. That sounds right,” Kyle agrees, and he wants to close his eyes in order to focus his elusive memories, but he's sure he'll nod right off if he does. He's suddenly feeling absolutely  _drained._

“Then... we got married some time last night. ' _Til death do us part_ and everythin' in between,” Guy supplies, although he looks prepared to sleep.

“And then tattoos...” Kyle presses his finger against the center of his forehead, like it'll help him figure out this mystery. “And then... back here.”

“But that can't be right,” John says, eyes closed as he props himself against the banister. “It doesn't make any sense. After everything that happened last night, Hal was apparently with us when we came back. But he's not here now and no one saw him leave. _It doesn't make any sense._ ”

“Fuck it,” Guy murmurs. “Fuck it all. When I wake up, I'm callin' my ring here. S'ridiculous... got this magical thing that's all-knowing, and we ain't usin' it just 'cause we promised not to. The League 'n' Carol can come for my ass, but Hal's... Hal's a priority. Gotta find 'im.”

“That was almost a compliment,” John says with a sleepy smile. Guy is still conscious enough to flip him off.

They all fall silent for a long time, long enough for Kyle to fall asleep for several minutes and wake up thinking that everything was just a very elaborate nightmare. But the hotel suite is still a mess, Guy still has a tattoo, and there is still an absence of Hal.

“Oh, _God_ ,” Kyle swears, and he can hear Guy and Simon snoring. “God, this is a _mess_.”

“I was hoping he'd be proven wrong, but it looks like Guy's right,” John mumbles, his voice heavy with exhaustion. He's trying to stay awake, and he's struggling with it. “Things are really fucked up beyond all reason. I don't... I don't know where Hal is. Don't think we'll find him without our rings.”

“No, no,” Kyle shakes his head. “That can't be it. Hal just... _doesn't_ go missing.”

“Doesn't make sense,” John repeats for the umpteenth time, and he sounds close to drifting. “Need to find him. Damn the League and Carol... we're suiting up and finding him.”

* * *

Hal and Barry are getting married.

The chapel is filled to nearly twice the maximum capacity, but despite the fact that everyone in the room is dead silent, Simon can't hear a thing. He can't hear a thing when the officiator is upfront, beginning the ceremony, and he can't even hear Barry when he starts to recite his vows. It's strange that he's up there by himself, without Hal—

Even though the whole scenario is playing out in complete silence, Simon sees Barry looking forlorn as he speaks, and the look of absolute heartbreak on his face makes him sick with guilt.

Everyone is laughing and eating during the reception, and at the long table reserved specially for the wedding party, John sees Barry sitting alone. He wants to get up to approach him, maybe to join him for the dinner if that's all right, but his body refuses to move at all. It doesn't make sense that he can't move, and it makes even less sense that Hal—

He can't even turn to look away from Barry, and when the man finally meets his eyes, John is crushed by the misery on his face.

Between gaps in the crowd of people on the dance floor, Guy sees Barry standing alone in the center. Everyone is moving and dancing, but they all manage to avoid him without any trouble. It's almost like he's not even there at his own wedding. Guy begins to walk towards him, but every step he takes seems to put more and more distance between him and Barry. It's unfathomable that Barry would be dancing alone, so Guy makes a mental note to tell off Hal—

All he can see now is Barry's back, but the way his shoulders slouch tell Guy more than he needs to know.

The crowd begins to thin out as the guests leave, and in almost an instant, everyone has completely cleared out. Kyle exits the foyer alone, and he finds Barry sitting on the stairs, just as companionless as he is. He approaches the speedster to offer his company, but no words come out. Kyle tries to speak, his mouth moving soundlessly as Barry continues to apathetically take sips from the champagne flute. He can't figure out why Barry is out here alone, because Hal—

Then, Barry drops the glass and holds his head in his hands, utterly crestfallen. Kyle wants to talk to him, to _reach_ him, but his voice goes nowhere.

And then he wakes up, his chest heaving like he'd fallen back into the pool. On his right, Guy seems to be coming to from his own nightmare, and both John and Simon are also waking up from their own. They all look at each other with equally startled looks, and Guy grumbles irritably. “The hell'd wake us all up?”

“Nightmare,” Kyle admits easily. With Hal still _very much missing_ , he didn't expect sleep to come easily anyway. He shouldn't be sleeping in the first place.

“Me too,” Simon nods, but he doesn't share what it was.

“Same here,” John says. “Something about a wedding...”

Simon makes a noise of agreement, and Kyle nods. Guy shifts uneasily in his seat and crosses his arms. “Hmph. I don't _get_ nightmares.”

“Sure,” John rubs his eyes, talking with just an edge of derision. “How miserable was Barry in yours?”

Guy frowns at him, tossing one of the throw pillows at him. “...really fuckin' miserable.”

Kyle chuckles, and Guy another one of the pillows at him. Instead of throwing it back, he hugs it, looking a little more somber. He looks outside, and he sees the morning sun beginning to come into view between the tall buildings. “What time is it?”

“Almost six in the morning, which means that we've got six hours 'til we're officially fucked,” Guy says, glancing at the microwave in the kitchen.

“Haven't we been fucked this whole entire time?” Simon says with a hollow laugh.

“No, we've still got six more hours,” John points out, trying to instill more hope into the group. He doesn't look like he believes it himself, but Kyle follows his lead.

“John's right. We still have time. We're gonna find him, and we're _not_ gonna be late for the wedding,” Kyle says firmly. “There has to be something we've missed. We tried mapping the whole thing out last night, but there has to be _something_ that we've just overlooked for whatever reason.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble, but there's not much else,” Guy grimaces. “We went everywhere in Vegas and asked everyone in between. Lemme just call my ring here and get this all over with. The League and Carol can kiss my ass-”

“Hold off on that for a second. That can't be all there is,” Kyle stands up and begins pacing. “Let's go back on everything again."

“I think you're right. We've missed something,” John says, pacing as well. “All Guy and I found were receipts and witness accounts from both New York New York and Excalibur. You couldn't find anything else from Hooters, right?”

“Right,” Kyle nods. “Nothing useful, anyway. People might've seen us, but we were barely there.”

“And here at the MGM, everyone I asked says that they all saw us come back around three, and Hal was definitely with us,” Simon supplies. “They also had his wallet down at the front desk.”

“And between all of those places, we ended up at the poor man's Justice League chapel, a sex toy store, and a tattoo parlor,” Guy counts off. “None of 'em had anything useful for us. Let's face it—I need to take the fall and call my ring, 'cause we need to find Hal and haul ass.”

John frowns at that. It's not that he is unimpressed by Guy's show of apparent altruism—even though every single one of Guy's acts of “altruism” has gotten _all_ of them in trouble—but he raises a different question. “Simon, they told you that the wallet fell from the sky, right? Did they say where exactly they found the wallet?”

“You know what? They never did,” Simon says. “There must've been a reason for them to specify that it had fallen from the sky though.”

“I ain't really followin'. Does Hal's collection of him and Barry cheesin' it up actually matter?” Guy frowns.

“Yeah, I think it does,” Kyle says, and John and Simon feel it too. This is the lead they've been searching for all night. “We need to go downstairs.”


	7. Chapter 7

 “Good morning, gentlemen! How can I help you?” The woman at the front desk greets them enthusiastically and smiles at them widely, but the slightly crazed look in her eyes tell them that she hasn't slept in quite a while.

“Err, good morning to you, too,” Simon echoes back, having been named to be the group's designated speaker. “Yesterday, I came here looking for my friend's wallet? I got it back, actually, but I was wondering where exactly it was found.”

“Oh, is this about the wallet that fell from the sky?” The woman asks, and she looks relieved by the fact that she'll be handing them off to someone else. “That was handled by Gil, who's right down there. I'll call him over for you!”

They all look at each other, hoping that this lead doesn't go cold as Gil approaches them. “How can I help you guys today?”

“Hi, you're the one who gave me the wallet yesterday, right? Can you tell me more about, uh, _how_ it was found?” Simon asks.

“Right! Right, I remember you,” Gil nods. “Well, I'm sure you already know this, but the wallet had apparently fallen from the sky or something. One of the valets at Paris hotel had picked it up—which is extremely lucky for your friend, considering that this _is_ Las Vegas—and he saw the keycard was for us, the MGM. He was nice enough to have it taken here, and that was that. I guess that'll be the crazy Vegas story you tell your friends, right?”

Gil laughs, but the four Lanterns remain quiet, processing what they'd just been told. Guy is the first one to speak, and he essentially speaks for all of them.

“Holy _shit,_ ” Guy's jaw is slack, and the other three are already coordinating what to do next.

“Yeah, well, believe it or not—that's not the craziest story we've heard around here. The stuff people get up to... it's like some Las Vegas effect or something.”

“I bet. We wouldn't _dream_ of cutting loose here,” John chuckles, and he's checking his phone. Less than six hours until they're—as Guy had appropriately put it earlier—officially fucked. But with this new revelation, those five and a half hours are now plenty of time. “Thanks so much for your help.”

Gil waves them off, and they make a beeline to the entrance. As soon as they're out, they distance themselves from the hotel. Once they're far enough down the boulevard, they turn to look at the enormous complex. Ever since they had first arrived a couple of days ago, they'd never really gotten a good look of the hotel.

But there, even in the dusky blue of sunrise, the MGM Grand still glows its majestic green.

“Hey, is that why you chose the MGM for us?” Guy asks, smirking. “Because it's green?”

John's shrug is indifferent, but his smile is knowing. “Why would I ever do that?”

“Yeah, would've been too on the nose,” Guy snorts. “So, what's it gonna be, fellas? Are we just gonna stand here and get all romantic over some big green hotel? Or are we gonna get our buddy?”

“Carol's not gonna like this,” Simon reminds them offhandedly, but he's just as unconcerned as the rest of them.

“Neither is the League, but when did I ever give a shit?” Guy grins.

“We've already been in enough trouble as it is,” Kyle says, and they all look up when they hear the tell-tale _whizz_ of their rings cutting across the air. “What harm is a little more going to do?”

* * *

The Las Vegas Strip is a completely different place from their vantage point. Five hundred feet off the ground and suddenly the Strip looks a lot smaller, a lot easier to manage. The buildings are dwarfed beneath them, much less intimidating and overwhelming.

“Yeah, we're comin' back here with our rings,” Guy says as they fly a loop around New York New York's Statue of Liberty. “Can you imagine flyin' over this place at _night_? The people payin' for the High Roller would _shit_ themselves.”

“Coming back? After this fiasco?” Simon asks incredulously, completely turned off to the idea of returning.

“I'm gonna need time off before even thinking of coming back here, Guy. Maybe someday, in the very distant future,” Kyle offers, giving a slightly diplomatic answer. Guy scowls at the both of them.

“I think I've had enough of Vegas altogether, thanks,” John says, even though they're taking the scenic route. He's not complaining—the buildings are breathtaking and seeing them this close is a treat for him.

As chaotic their trip ended up being, they all concede that there's nothing like seeing the Strip from this high up. Since they're already there—and likely already in trouble with everyone—they've got nothing else to lose. They fly around the four-winged structure of the Marriott's Grand Chateau, and they take a turn around the curved high-rise towers of Aria.

When they reach Paris, pause for a moment and they size up the Eiffel Tower. John hovers closer to the iron structure, touching it and glancing at the others. “Ready?”

They all nod, ascending the structure at a slower pace than their initial flight. They're filled with as much hope as dread; they're positive that this is the right place, but as their trip has shown them time and time again that there's still quite a bit of room for error.

When they rise to the top of the building, they all sigh collectively in relief.

“Never thought I'd ever be relieved to see you, you bastard,” Guy finally speaks for all of them, and it's a calloused greeting, but the sentiment behind it is good-humored.

Hal looks like he'd spent the last day and a half storming through Warworld and fighting his way back. His hair is disheveled, his face is unshaven, and there are clear sunburns across his cheekbones and shoulders. Accompanied by a stuffed bear and wearing just an undershirt and some shorts, Hal looks tragic and pathetic, but when he sees them, he still manages to crack a smile. He raises his arm slowly, and his ring reflects a bit of the morning light.

“About time you guys found me.”

* * *

“Son of a _bitch_ ,” Guy exhales, but he's grinning. They soar across the sky, leaving ribbons of green light in their wake. “Makin' us leave our rings behind when _you_ couldn't even follow your own damn rule.”

“It was a duplicate,” Hal shrugs, but he seems to have no problem implicating himself. His ring, now alive and powered by Kyle's ring, has healed his tattoo—which is just as tacky as they had suspected—and most of his sunburns, and he's looking a little more clearheaded. Despite that, John insists on holding him in a construct until they return to their terrace. “I figured we all were secretly carrying a dupe.”

“No, we _weren't_ ,” Guy frowns, more disappointed in himself for not having thought of that.

They touch down on the terrace, and John leads Hal to one of the bathrooms so that he can try to improve his appearance. Hal leaves the stuffed bear with Simon—fittingly named “Beary” during Hal's delirium at the top of the Eiffel Tower—and Kyle summons his Power Battery so that they can charge up.

John walks back into the room and they all are quiet. Kyle looks at Guy, Guy looks at Simon, and Simon brings the circle back to John. For a while, they just stare at each other in silence, save for the sound of running water.

“We did it,” John says finally, and they all relax enough to grin.

“Not without a whole lotta sufferin'. Speakin' of sufferin', have you gotten any calls yet?” Guy asks, scribbling up something on a nearby notepad.

“Nope, seeing as my phone is completely dead,” John says, producing the device from his pocket. He turns it over in his hands and shrugs. “I think it's for the best. We just need to show up on time, and then we'll tackle whatever comes at us.”

“I'm sure _we'll_ be tackled first,” Simon points out, and when Hal comes out of the bathroom, he tosses him his wallet. “Probably wouldn't have found you without this, man.”

“Thanks,” Hal says, fondly thumbing through the pictures inside before pocketing it. He accepts Beary back and tucks the stuffed animal safely into his luggage. “So, what's our ETA, John?”

“If we go now, we'll make it in just under the four and a half hours we have left,” John says, checking the wall clock. “And by the way, Guy, what did you just write?”

Guy lifts the note for everyone to see. _Send all bills to the Justice League. Batman will pay for everything._

“I... I guess that'll do,” Kyle chuckles and raises his Power Battery. The group raises their fists against it, preparing to recite the oath. “Let's charge up then.”

“Four and a half hours is a long flight. You guys'll have to tell me everything that happened,” Hal says, and their rings begin to glow with willpower. “You wouldn't believe this, but I have no idea how I ended up getting stuck on the Eiffel Tower with my dead ring.”

“Yeah, yeah, we'll fill you in on everythin' that we've managed to remember,” Guy says. “Now, can we get on with it? I dunno if you've forgotten already, but we're tryin' to make it in time for _your_ wedding.”

Hal grins. “Let's light 'em up.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo!! I made it! (raises fist in victory) We made it!
> 
> But this story isn't over yet—I've got plans for an interquel(?) that'll follow the Lanterns during their crazy night, and maybe another interquel that details Hal's POV during the group's search for him. Lots of fun stuff that I'd like to explore.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading!! Special thank you to everyone who's commented and left kudos, because that shit makes me teary-eyed. You all are great!


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